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A Vore-Torn World - Page 215 - Disobey Your Mother - By PurpSoul - Overview
You have to help. You've stood by and watched as so many people died to feed your mother's gluttony, and you've had enough. But you have to be careful about this, or you'll just be dessert. You lower your eyes and move forward.

"Yes ma'am," you say obediently.

"How could you???" Sasha wails as you take her father from your mother and hold him still. Your mother smirks smugly and slams Sasha down on the counter, holding her down easily. Elliot sobbed and begged from within her, causing Sasha to break down into horrified, broken sobs. "Please," she begged, but your cruel mother only laughed as she began to strip the poor girl. Mr. Miles begins trying to break free from your grasp.

"Shut up and hold still, I'm trying to help," you assure him, before releasing him. You edge around your mother, until you are out of her field of view. She is so intent on torturing her prey that she seems to have completely forgotten you. You carefully open the cutlery drawer, feeling light headed as you try to wrap your head around what you are doing. Your fingers shake as you grasp the biggest, sharpest knife in the drawer. It gleams evilly, the same way you've seen your mother's eyes gleam so many times. You turn to face her back, eyes wide. Your heart pounds and your head spins, and your arms raise above your head as if on their own, grasping the knife with both hands. You struggle with your resolve, hesitating for a moment. An faint, agonized wail comes from the poor Elliot, signaling that digestion is beginning to take its toll. You have to act now. You squeeze your eyes shut, and plunge the knife downwards as hard as you can.

"Sorry," you whisper, as you feel the knife slice through skin, fat, and muscle. You struck her towards the top of her back, hoping to hit her heart, but you don't know if you did. You hear her grunt in shock, then let out a groan.

"What...?" she wheezes, and then Sasha has regained her feet. She shoves the fat woman off, then spots the knife protruding from her back. With a snarl, she yanks it out... and sticks it back in... and again, and again, and again. Your mother begins to shriek and cry out in agony as blood splashes everywhere. You blink and take a few steps back as blood splatters your face. You watch as your mother is brutally stabbed to death in front of you. Your head spins, and you feel your knees buckle. Mr. Miles catches you before you hit the ground and lowers you gently to the floor. The last things you hear are the savage growls of Sasha Miles, and the sickening, sticky, thudding noise the knife makes as it slices through her chest.

When you wake up, you are laying on the living room couch. The first thing you notice is the overpowering, irony smell of blood. You groan and raise your head. You see Elliot leaning against the wall, covered by a blanket. His face is red, and has a burn mark from the top of his forehead that stretches down below his left eye, but he seems otherwise unharmed. Sasha has her arms around him, and his head is rested on her shoulder. She looks worse than he does. Her brown hair is matted and crusted with blood. Her face is covered with flaking dried blood, and red stains adorn her dress. She notices you waking up, and stands, carefully resting Elliot against the wall. She comes over to you and helps you sit up, and gives you a tight hug, holding you against her for several seconds.

"Thank you.. Thank you so much. You saved my brother. A-and me too, I guess. Thank you, Gilbert, and... I'm sorry." You are too mentally exhausted to respond, so you simply smile as she pulls away, and nod your head.

Mr. AND Mrs. Miles are standing in your kitchen, looking down at something. You get to your feet shakily, and make your way over to them. Too late, Mr. Miles raises his hand towards you and shakes his head, but you've already seen it. Your mother is sprawled on her back. Her chest is a red and torn ruin, and her stomach is split wide open. The floor and most of the cabinets are coated in blood. He can't stop yourself from retching, and if you'd have eaten anything today, you'd have puked it back up. You heave, and let Mr. Miles help you back over to the couch. Mrs. Miles follows, and for once, you aren't afraid of her.

"You saved my family today, Mr. Mosely," she says in her usual curt and cold manner, but there is warmth in her eyes that you've never seen. "I won't forget that."

"Let's not forget he had to destroy his own family to do that," Mr. Miles adds. You shake your head.

"She wasn't my family. Just my mother," you say flatly.

"Nevertheless," Mrs. Miles continues, "Thank you."

You smile weakly in response. Sasha goes to Elliot once more, and helps him to his feet. He shudders and whimpers in pain as he moves, and the blanket begins to slide off. Before Sasha catches it, you see more extensive burns on his chest and below, some of them pretty nasty looking. Mrs. Miles stands.

"We must get him to a hospital," she declares. "Sasha, you and I will have to take shifts while he is there, we can't leave him unguarded with the medical staff about. Husband, go and fetch Tami, we need to leave immediately." She begins to head out, but Sasha stops her.

"But.. what about Gilbert? What will he do, his house is... well, a mess..."

Mrs. Miles paused, pursing her lips. "He can come with us, if he likes..." she says, but you shake your head.

"No, I'll stay here. I'll call the police in the morning, they can deal with it while I'm at school." Mr. Miles suddenly frowns.

"Oh right... um, murder is still illegal, right? Outside of, you know..."

Mrs. Miles thought for a moment. "Depends... there's no hiding that someone was cut out of her, so they may dismiss it..."

"I'll just tell them I found her like this," you decide. "Say whoever did it was already gone."

Mrs. Miles is already shaking her head. "The police won't listen to you. In fact, they would most likely use you as an easy suspect, and file the case closed as a young male going crazy and killing its owner. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that they'd be writing you off as well, or what that would mean for you."

She doesn't. You realize this could be quite a problem for you. No police would give two shits about a boy like you. No, they'd give one shit and be done with you. You frown, chewing your lip thoughtfully. What do to?

Before you can come up with another idea, Mrs. Miles speaks up. "The police force owes me a few favors, though I typically only use those for family..." Her eyes flick over to her son, and she sighs. "I suppose this counts. Sleep in our house tonight, I'll have the police clean up the mess by the time you get out of school tomorrow. If I tell them I killed her, they won't ask any questions. Try not to show up while they are still here. I don't hold enough weight with them to deny them dinner."

You nod. "Thank you, I really appreciate it," you say.

"It's the least I can do," she answers. "If there's ever anything I can do for you, let me know."

"Yes," Sasha chimes in. "Anything at all!" She says, escorting Elliot through the busted door.

"Th-thanks..." the younger boy manages weakly, before wincing and groaning in pain. Mrs. Miles follows them out, leaving you alone in the house with your dead mother.

You feel light-headed and strangely calm. You can see the blood splattering the kitchen walls, slowly drying and darkening. The pungent smell is thick and overpowering, but you hardly notice it. You stare at nothing in particular, the silence ringing in your ears. As if in a daze, you go upstairs to your room and put on a new change of clothes. You feel nothing, and that makes you feel uneasy. Shouldn't you have some reaction to this? Your mother was just torn open in front of you. Your only family member has just died, and you don't even care. What's wrong with you? Didn't you love her?

No, you realize. You didn't love her at all, any more than she loved you. You learned at a young age how she felt about you, and wasted no time feeling sorry for yourself. You simply accepted it and lived your own life. Yeah, she died, but people die every day. You've witnessed death almost every day if your life, knowing any day it could come for you. This is no different.

Overcome by a sudden case of the chills, you grab your bag and your phone and head back out of the house, away from the grisly scene. You feel a bit lost, like there is something you should be doing or somewhere you should be, but you don't know what or where it is. You suddenly long for Millie, and you pull out your phone to call her, before you remember your last exchange with her. You hesitate, then put the phone back in your pocket. Best to give her some time to cool down. You don't know what you would have said to her anyway.

When you step inside the Miles residence, you find yourself overwhelmed by nostalgia. Years ago, when you were only a boy, you played here with Sasha and her baby brother. Sasha was such a sweet girl, so radically different than the other girls that turned so many of your friends to shit. The place looks almost exactly the same as you remember. You smile, fondly remembering your old friend. Why had the two of you stopped talking? Thinking back, it seems like it had been a sudden thing. One day she was your friend, the next day she wasn't. One day she was warm and kind, the next day cold and distant, like her mother.

It doesn't matter now, you reason. You have Millie, at least for now, and you shouldn't even be thinking about Sasha. Still, some part of you keeps thinking back to the hug she gave you before leaving. It had felt nice.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. Today had been something of a nightmare, from start to finish. You need something to occupy your mind, and your thought go instantly to Miss Nora.

"You ain't as dumb as you act, boy," she had said, frowning at you intensely. "You got what they call potential, but you just wanna fuck around and waste my time." You had hardly been listening, still dazed by Millie's rage, but when she grabbed you by the back of your neck and shoved your face into her belly, you started paying attention. "Listen, punk. I ain't like these other bitches. I like you boys, and I wanna see you go far. But you go and waste my time?" She dragged you to the wastebasket and held your head over it, forcing you to see-and smell- its contents. A stinking pile of shit and bone was there, half buried by crumpled papers. "That's the ONLY place you're going, understand? Know who that is? That's your boy Felix. He was like you: smart, promising, and lazy as fuck. Three times, I warned him, and three fuckin' times, he ignored me. So I ground the pathetic shit to pieces, and I'll grind you to fucking pieces if you don't get it together!" She farted noisily *FBBBBBBT* in emphasis, and you just nodded your understanding, shaken by her aggression. "Study, you fuck. You either got bright future or you gonna be stinkin' up my asscrack, pick one." She released you and walked back to her desk, grunting as she forced the last of poor Felix from her rump.

You gulp nervously as you recall the scene. You have no doubt she means every word, as Felix found out a bit too late. Shame about him, he really had been very smart, and he was fun to talk to. You don't envy his fate one bit, so you should reeeeeaally take her advice and study, you fuck. You are so exhausted though, so tired... you wouldn't retain any information now anyway, right? Today has been hard enough, no need to complicate it with chemistry.

You doubt such excuses will save you from Miss Nora's wastebasket, however. Sleep or study?
Choose
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